Time Travel is too Easy
by MadTrout
Summary: As a lover of knowledge, Hermione just cannot resist asking Fleur to manipulate the Minister of Magic in order to use semii-illegal time traveling magic. It's all for a good cause, she promises.


The Ministry of Magic prohibits a variety of magic. The Unforgivable Curses being the most infamous, logical spells among its long list of things witches and wizards just are _not _ allowed to do. Under any circumstances.

However, there is a lesser known list of forbidden magic that becomes _less_ forbidden given the circumstances. Traveling through time is on this list.

Often times, this list is swayed when potion materials need to be gathered and when corrupt ministry official need dodo bird feathers to impress their wives. And so, a letter is written, an owl is sent, and a ledger is signed by the minister himself or herself permitting such laws to be ... accommodating.

Hermione just has an insatiable drive for knowledge, any and all. It's a noble endeavor, really. Which is why she has no issue asking her Veela girlfriend to use her charms on the current minister for his enchanted signature.

Glaring and denying only takes her so far before Fleur realizes that her apprehension is a _huge_ waste of time and decides that everything would be easier if they could get this over with. So, for Hermione, Fleur shakes her ass, bats her eyes, and speaks a little French, obtaining the signature from the minister and a thank-you fuck from her love in no time at all.

The spell is not very difficult. Hermione actually complains that it wasn't challenging enough for her, but challenge or not they find themselves in the middle of the Cretaceous Period, seventy-three million years in the past.

With their magic and more than enough time on their side, Fleur and Hermione build a semi-permanent home here in the center of this tropical habit of things that can kill them. Hermione conjures, and writes, books in her spare time (which they have a lot of) and soon her measly bamboo bookshelf is not nearly enough to contain all of Hermione's knowledge, ideas, and thoughts.

So Fleur builds her a bigger one for Hermione to fill with her passion.

They run out of parchment quickly, and there's always more to be made, but they never run out of love. Hermione loves Fleur for making this happen for her, Fleur loves Hermione for taking her along on this journey, not just this one in particular: The journey of being in love with this veracious reader, this insatiable mind, this determined fighter, this passionate lover.

When Fleur tells her these things, Hermione blushes red like the color of the many volcanic eruptions they have seen here. Her hair is bound in a ponytail that after all this time has grown to the middle of her back –Fleur's has grown nearly to her butt- and Fleur pulls the tie from it and buries her hands in it, kissing Hermione like she is dying. They have always been this in love, but sometimes it just hits Fleur like a stray hex and she is forced to act on it.

They spend their days, weeks, months like this: Happy in their seclusion together and productive in their findings. Fleur's invented and perfected new spells which Hermione records in her massive collection of information. Hermione has harvested new materials and created new potions and so much more which she also records in her journals. They now utilize an Apatosaurus to traverse their massive outdoor library.

It is quite comical watching Hermione climb its back to reach an old book.

Fleur uses the Imperius Curse to ride her Velociraptor that she named Henri to gather things and explore this old world.

Every day is an adventure here with Hermione. Every day is another thing discovered.

But they both know they need to go back. They both will miss it, but they are ready and they do not want to prolong the inevitable any longer.

Hermione charms her extensive library and her new materials, placing them all in her bag, also charmed, and grinning at Fleur's impressed expression.

The grab each other's hands and returning is easy.

Their French cottage is the same as they left it. There are no letters under the door. No owls tapping at the window. Their clock strikes nine and the sun outside the window tells them it is the morning. They left at eight.

"It is the same day, oui?" Fleur asks, never letting Hermione's hand go as they study the house.

Nodding, Hermione replies, "I think so. It feels like it's been ages. We'll figure out tomorrow. Come now. I need a bath and sleep." Her brown eyes are alight with a passion that has been so present when she murmurs, "Join me."

Her fingers linger in Fleur's for only a second before Hermione's is walking down the hall, leaving a trail of dirty, stained clothes. Grinning, Fleur pulls her shirt over her head and suppress a shiver when her hair tickles her hipbones. She leaves her clothes with Hermione's while she prowls to their tub, eager to join her friend, lover, mate.


End file.
